She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. “I should think YOU could do all sorts of things. He’s—He lives in a world of possibilities outside your imagination. ” “Well!” “He greeted me effusively. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive.
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